His Motherless Little Twins Page 7

  Wise words, but was she wise enough to listen to them? Because, with all her heart, she wanted to trust Eric.

  Dinah’s first official shift as a practicing nurse was quiet. In fact, if she hadn’t been so keyed up to work as a nurse again, she could have had herself a very good nap because, except for one over-indulgent eater from the lodge and mild case of sniffles, she’d had the evening pretty much to herself. But that didn’t matter. Nothing did, considering how she was back where she wanted to be, back where she belonged. So, for her six assigned hours, she patrolled the halls, tidied the supply cabinets, straightened the bed sheets, fluffed the pillows and simply existed in a place that made her happy. Dinah Corday, happy again. She desperately wished it could be permanent.

  Eric called twice within the first hour, volunteering to come in if needed. But Dr. Jane McGinnis, on call for her shift, was sufficient for what seemed to be a very slow evening. In fact, she hid herself in a closed room and hung a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door. Orthopedist by day, medical mystery novelist by night, Jane was in the middle of what she called revising a sagging middle, getting close to her deadline. Her orders were simply to leave her alone except for an emergency or unless she had the solution for getting the bound and gagged heroine out of the trunk of a car, safe and sound, while it was speeding at ninety miles per hour down the highway.

  Since Dinah didn’t have the solution to that one, she left Jane to her writing.

  Then there was a grandmotherly-looking night clerk, Emoline Putters, on hand in the emergency department, spending her night transcribing doctors’ notes, guzzling hot, black coffee and grumbling rather loudly, and often obscenely, over illegible handwriting. And Ed Lester, a man who mopped the halls and dusted the light fixtures, made his presence known a few times, pushing a broom up one corridor and down the next, but he did nothing more than nod and offer a half-salute to Dinah when she greeted him.

  So, basically, Dinah was pretty much left alone.

  At first she dreaded a long, empty night pacing up and down the hollow halls and listening to the squeak of her rubber soles on the tiled floor, and Emoline’s muttering off in the distance, then at the halfway point of her shift she was amazed how quickly her first hours had flown by.

  The hours, no matter how fast or slow, didn’t matter, though. This was all about being back where she belonged. Smelling the smells, hearing the sounds. Home.

  “Want me to go out and scare up some business?” Eric asked, as Dinah scurried by treatment room number three on her way to do nothing in particular.

  She glanced in, saw him stretched out on the exam table, feet up, head propped up on several pillows, hands clasped behind his head. “Are you checking up on me?”

  “Maybe.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or angry. “If that’s standard for all your new employees, fine. Check. But if it’s something about me…”

  “Don’t be so defensive. Jane called. She’s at a plot point she doesn’t want interrupted unless we absolutely have to. She asked if I could back her up.”

  “A plot point.”

  “She’s going to donate part of the proceeds from her book to expanding the orthopedic wing. We’re in ski country here. We want that expansion, so we do what we have to.”

  “So we’re not supposed to call the doctor on call.”

  “Not when she’s at a crucial plot point.” He swung his legs down off the exam table and sat straight up. “If we can at all avoid it.”

  “You run a very lenient hospital here, Doctor.”

  “We try to. I came from a very typical medical background, it worked. But when I got here, this just seemed like the place to…to be something different, do something different. We try to make our medicine more relaxed, more personal.”

  “More involved?”

  He nodded. Neil and I both felt that medicine’s moving too far away from being personal, which is why we decided to go in the opposite direction when we bought the hospital. We were both starting over at the time…he’d just gone through a messy divorce, I was recently widowed. Fresh starts all the way round.”

  “Easier said than done.” She wanted a fresh start, but she hadn’t yet figured how to rid herself of the stale past.

  “Or easier done than said, if you want it badly enough. I wanted it and, thank God, I found White Elk.”

  “Then you’re happy here?”

  “We’re all three happy here.” Finally, he stood. “You could be, too, if—”

  “Got one coming in,” Emoline Putters’voice boomed over the intercom.

  Eric chuckled. “What she lacks in finesse she makes up for in efficiency.” As he headed out toward the hall, with Dinah practically right behind him, they greeted a frantic mother leading the way while her husband carried a child through the emergency door.

  “He’s not responding to us,” the mother cried, while Eric took the boy in his arms and rushed into the first treatment room. “Barely able to talk.”

  “When did this start?” Dinah asked.

  “About an hour ago. We heard him moaning…”

  “Has he been sick?”

  The father stepped in and slid his arm around his wife’s waist. “My name is Frank Jackson, this is my wife, Elaine. Our son, Henry, is ten. He hasn’t been sick, at least not that we’ve seen. And he hasn’t said anything to us about not feeling well. But about an hour ago we heard him moaning, thought it was an upset stomach, but he wouldn’t respond to us when we tried talking to him…just moaned.”

  Dinah squeezed Mrs Jackson’s arm. “We’ll let you know as soon as we know something.” She turned and hurried into the treatment room and joined Eric at the side of the exam table.

  “Blood pressure’s normal, pulse rate fine, pupils equal, respirations perfect,” Eric said.

  “He wasn’t sick prior to this episode.” Instinctively, she picked up his wrist to take a pulse, felt the boy flinch. “Any temperature?”

  Eric shook his head as he placed his stethoscope into his ears and bent to listen to Henry’s lungs. “Sound clear,” he finally said. “Heart sounds good, too.”

  “But he’s not responding,” Dinah said, staring across the table at Eric. “I wonder how his reflexes are. Could be serious, if he has The Drop.”

  “The Drop,” Eric responded, nodding. Fighting back a smile. “Yes, very serious. Perhaps you should do that test, Nurse.”

  “Very well, Doctor.” She picked up Henry’s arm, held it steady for a moment then dropped it onto the table. There was a hesitation in movement, just for a split second, before his arm fell.

  “Looks like a partial case of The Drop to me,” Eric said.

  Dinah glanced down at the boy, barely containing her own smile. “Thank heavens for that. Because the needle you have to use for a full case of The Drop is so big…” She held up her hands in front of Henry’s face, indicating something at least the size of Eric’s forearm.

  Henry’s face scrunched, but he still didn’t respond.

  “But I don’t have a half-sized needle for a partial case of The Drop,” Eric said.

  “Then I think we can use a full-sized needle and stick it only halfway into him. Wouldn’t that work?”

  “Good idea, Nurse. Why don’t you roll Henry over on his side and I’ll get the injection ready.”

  “Are you going to give the shot in his bottom, Doctor?” Dinah asked.

  Eric’s grin was from ear to ear. “I know it will hurt worse there, but I think it’s for the best. And since he’s not awake, he won’t feel it.”

  “Very well, Doctor.” With that, Dinah started to roll Henry over on his side, but his eyes popped open.

  “No!” he screamed. “I don’t want a shot!”

  “But you could get sick again,” Dinah said, “and one shot should keep you from getting The Drop for at least a year.”

  Henry bolted upright on the exam table. “I’m not sick. I wasn’t sick. I was just…”

  “But you ha
ve all the symptoms,” Eric said.

  “I don’t have symptoms,” Henry protested. “I just didn’t want to go to school tomorrow. We’re having a math test, and I didn’t…” Big tears rolled down his cheeks. “I didn’t study for it. Am I in trouble?”

  “Faking an illness and scaring your parents the way you did could be very serious,” Dinah said.

  “And what if someone who was really sick needed our help but we couldn’t take care of them because we were taking care of you?” Eric stepped up to the table and helped Henry to the floor. “And it costs a lot of money to come to the emergency room. Are you going to be able to pay for this?”

  “M-money?” he asked.

  Dinah and Eric both nodded solemnly.

  “I have an allowance…my lunch money.”

  Dinah slipped out into the hall to talk with the Jacksons while Eric continued the discussion with Henry, and by the time the Jackson family left the hospital, the arrangement was made that Henry would pay back what he owed for his little prank by volunteering every Saturday morning for the next several weeks. His duty would be as the toy monitor in the hospital waiting room’s play area for children.

  “You spotted that one pretty fast,” Eric said, stretching back out on an exam table.

  “Experience. He was peeking at us when he thought we weren’t looking.” She laughed. “The harder they scrunch their faces, the more they’re faking.”

  “You’ve used The Drop before?”

  “In some variation. Threaten them with the big needle, and they’ll confess every time.”

  “For a math test,” Eric said, settling back.

  “And to think you have two daughters who’ll be conspiring together in deeds probably much more devious than anything poor little Henry’s ever thought of.”

  Groaning, Eric shut his eyes. “Maybe I can fake them out and pretend I have The Drop.” He raised his arm and dropped it to the table.

  “Remember, that one gets the big needle.”

  “Might be the preferable outcome. I mean, I’m not prepared, and I know they’re probably making a list of all the ways they’re going to pull things over on me when they’re older.”

  “Why wait until they’re older?” Dinah asked, heading to the door. “I have an idea they’ve already started.”

  “Not funny,” he called after her. “Not funny at all.”

  She poked her head back in, smiling. “Wasn’t meant to be.”

  Eric’s response was to groan again. And pull a pillow over his head.

  Her night at the hospital had been good. Working with Eric again even better. On impulse, while Dinah was halfway into chopping the romaine for that night’s Caesar, she called him. “You busy tonight?” she asked, not sure why she was doing this. But doing it all the same.

  “I, um…no, I don’t suppose I am,” he fumbled, sounding quite taken off guard. “Not unless there’s an outbreak of The Drop.”

  “Want to come to dinner at the lodge?”

  No response, and she was on the verge of embarrassment, and regret, for being so impulsive. Was this a mistake? Maybe she should have left well enough alone. But something was compelling her… “Bring the girls?” she added quickly, to save face. “I’d love to see them, love to have them take a tour of my kitchen.” For a moment she considered adding his sister and niece to the guest list, but he agreed before she got that far with the invitation.

  “Sure. We can come. I assume you’re cooking?”

  “Yes, but when I’m on a break…” What? What could she do with Eric and the twins on one of her fifteen-minute breaks? Or even on her thirty-minute meal break? Suddenly, what had seemed like a good idea didn’t seem so good after all.

  “You know they’re going to want to wear their chef aprons,” he said. “You’ve made quite an impression on them, and I don’t think they’ve had those aprons off since they had their baking lesson.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time to introduce them to the chef’s hat.” The conversation had turned into something about the girls, and Dinah had the impression Eric was awkward about this. No more than she was, probably. What a crazy thing to do, inviting him out this way, and when the conversation was over she was almost relieved. All awkwardness aside, though, they’d set a time, and she’d marked a reservation in the book for the best table in the house, which happened to be one of the closest to the kitchen. Then she continued chopping, taking care not let her mind wander too far lest she chop one of her fingers again.

  “So, are you going to tell me what it’s all about?” Angela asked her, thirty minutes later, when she was plopping down at the chef’s table in the kitchen, trying, without much success, to make herself comfortable. “Because I recognize the mood. It’s the pensive one.”

  “It’s the pensive one because I did something dumb again.”

  “Does it have anything to do with Eric Ramsey?”

  “I’m not interested in him the way you seem to think I am.”

  “And I didn’t say you were. But you’re mighty quick to bring it up, so I was just thinking that if you were interested in him the way you think I think you are…”

  “Look, why don’t you waddle your pregnant self back to your office and let me get the dinner service prep finished. OK?”

  Angela laughed. “You were never good at hiding things, Dinah. That’s why Mom always knew what we were up to. You gave us away every time, without saying a word, because it’s right there, in your eyes. The whole story.”

  “Not the whole story,” she argued.

  “This time I think it’s the whole story. You’re interested, don’t want to be, fighting not to be, and losing the fight. Am I right?”

  “You know what I’m in the mood for?” Dinah purposely changed the flow of the conversation while clearing away the last of the romaine pieces and getting herself ready to cut up several loaves of crusty bread, soak them in garlic butter and bake them into croutons. She didn’t want to talk about it, or think about it either. Didn’t want it anywhere near her right now.

  “I know what you’re doing, changing the subject. But it won’t work, Dinah. Not talking about it won’t make it go away.”

  Dinah shot a scowl at her sister. “Not changing the subject. It got worn out and I was moving on to something nicer.”

  “What’s nicer than talking about you falling for Eric Ramsey?”

  Dinah reached out and patted her sister’s belly. “This. I’m ready to become an aunt. So, how are you feeling? Any contractions? Any anything?”

  “Actually, Gabby Evans came up to see me this morning. Bryce is still in the hospital in Salt Lake City, and he’s doing remarkably well. She thinks he’ll be home in another few days. But she came home to take care of a few things, and stopped by and had a look at me. She thinks I could go into labor any time. The baby’s in position, and ready to come out and meet the world. In fact, if I haven’t gone into labor in the next three or four days, she’s going to induce me, or have someone else do it if she can’t get here.”

  “Three or four days?” Suddenly, everything felt good. The world became better. “She’ll get here, Angela. If there’s any possible way, you know she’ll get here.”

  “Well, if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. Bryce comes first for her, and I totally understand that.”

  Was she seeing a little apprehension coming over her sister? Considering what Angela had watched Gabby go through, Dinah wouldn’t be surprised if her sister was scared to death and doing a very good job of hiding it. And considering that Angela was another victim of a cheating husband… “You’re going to have a normal delivery,” she said, sitting down next to her sister and pulling her into her arms. “Normal delivery, beautiful, healthy baby. We’ll get through this together. Just the two of us. I promise.”

  “We’ll get through it better if you tell me about your date tonight.”

  Dinah stiffened up, wondering if she still had time to call Eric’s sister and niece and invite them, too. The more people ther
e, the less the illusion of a date. “It’s not a date. He’s bringing his twins.”

  “Want to bet?” Angela struggled to a standing position, arched her back and headed back to her office, stopping before she was out of the kitchen. “It’s OK to get involved, Dinah. I know I’m teasing you about it, and I’m probably the last person who should be giving anyone relationship advice seeing how my ex-husband is off on the slopes with a young ski bunny. But you know what? I want to be involved again. Brad hurt me, but he hasn’t spoiled me because I know it’s out there…true love, true happiness, all the things that make being involved with someone else good. It’s there, and it does happen. And if it walked in the door right now, even in my condition, I’d give myself over to it in a heartbeat. So, don’t reject it out of hand because you’ve had some bad experiences in the past. Maybe Eric isn’t the one who’ll be walking in your door someday. Maybe he is. But you’ll never know if you don’t leave that door open a crack.”

  Dinah wanted to take those words to heart. She truly did. But it seemed that her door swung one way. Out. She wasn’t sure she wanted it to swing back in because, inevitably, any time it did, it swung right back out. And hurt her in such deep ways.

  Maybe Eric would walk through her door, but she wasn’t sure if she could survive him walking back out. It didn’t matter, though, because she’d already convinced herself that a shut door was the best door. Even if Eric was standing on the other side of it, knocking.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PREPARING a fresh salmon for the evening’s sushi, Dinah was alternately slicing, discarding unusable pieces and reflecting on everything Angela had said. Her sister, so pregnant she could hardly move, with an ex-husband now flaunting his new relationship wherever he could, was still optimistic about love. That was the optimism Dinah wanted, the positive outlook that had eluded her for so long. Honestly, she envied her sister that. Wished she could be like her. Supposing Eric did want to get involved, not that she thought he would, but if, in some odd, twisted scheme of things that’s what happened? What would be the worst outcome for her? A few weeks of something very nice with a man she found pleasant? She could do that for a few weeks. Go in with no expectations, come out unscathed.